Rose paced the small confines of her cell. Ten paces long. Turn. Eight paces wide. Turn. Bed on the left side, chamber pot in the far corner; over all it was basically like every other cell she'd been in.
She pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked the time. Over an hour had passed since she was supposed to meet the Doctor. She shoved the phone back into her pocket and started pacing again.
"You'll wear yourself out before your trial tomorrow," her neighbour said. "What'd you do to earn trial by combat anyway?"
A tiny grin crept over Rose's face. "I stopped some high and mighty lord from hitting his servant."
The woman's audible gasp surprised Rose. You stepped between a stedhul and a jarumn?"
Rose shrugged. "Well, yeah. That girl was only fifteen or so. Someone had to stop him." She grimaced when the rest of the afternoon came back to her. "Granted, I didn't know it would earn me a trip to Crime and Punishment: Medieval Edition, but even if I had, I'd've done the same thing."
The other woman shook her head. "You are either very brave, or very foolish."
Rose sat down on her bunk so she didn't feel like she was talking down to the woman. "You can't think it's right, letting someone mistreat a girl just because of their station."
The woman smiled bitterly. "It's simply the way it is. Most stedhul do not abuse their power like that."
Rose checked her phone again. "What do you keep looking at?" the Rhaetian asked.
"The time," Rose answered. The door at the end of the prison block opened, and she looked down the aisle, hoping to see the Doctor. Instead, it was the magistrate.
She turned back to the woman. "I was supposed to meet the Doctor over an hour ago. He'll be looking for me."
The magistrate stopped in front of her cell. "In fact, your husband has found you."
Rose blinked, but he was unlocking her cell and she'd learned a long time ago not to argue when people were letting her go—a lesson the Doctor still hadn't learned. And after all, technically he was her husband, even if he never actually did anything about it.
"So I can go then?" she asked the magistrate as they walked by the other cells.
He sighed. "No, I'm afraid your trial is still set for tomorrow morning, but as your husband, the Doctor has offered to stand in your place."
Ah. That explained why he'd said they were married. "Well, if you're not letting me go, where are you taking me?" she asked as they entered the main part of the municipal building.
"The Doctor expressed a desire to see you before retiring from the night, and to follow Rhaetian law, you will need to be married in our tradition."
Rose was torn between laughing and crying. Wedding number eleven.
The magistrate gave her a sideways glance and said, "I realise you're already married on multiple worlds, but for him to stand trial for you—"
"How'd you know that?" Rose asked, cutting him off.
He smirked. "When I asked for proof that you are, indeed, married, the Doctor pulled a pile of wedding tokens out of his pocket. I'm not sure how he got them all in there, and I still wonder about the collar, but it did prove his claim irrefutably."
Rose stumbled. "He had them all in his pockets?" she asked, cursing the question when the magistrate looked at her suspiciously. "I just thought we agreed to leave them at home is all," she hastened to add. "It's not exactly secure, is it? Carrying all that jewellery around?"
He smiled. "Yes, he said that was why neither of you wear rings or bands."
Rose drew a sigh of relief. At least her fumble had verified the Doctor's story.
The passed through the foyer and soon were in his office. The Doctor had his back to the door, hands in his pockets as he stared out the window, but when he heard the door open, he spun around. The relief on his face matched hers, and Rose couldn't stop herself from running into his arms.
The Doctor's eyes closed when he wrapped his arms around Rose. The dread that had been building ever since he'd heard of her arrest evaporated. Rose was fine, and in the morning he'd beat Lord Skern and get them out of here.
The magistrate cleared his throat, and the Doctor remembered the tiny bit of business they had to take care of first. He loosened his hold on Rose, and she looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye.
"I hear we get to have another wedding."
The Doctor tugged on his ear. "A hand-fasting," he explained, nodding to the magistrate who held a narrow strip of red cloth in his hands.
The magistrate walked around the desk. "After ten weddings, I doubt either of you have cold feet or doubts about your lives together," he said, "so let's move straight to the vows. Doctor, would you take Rose's hand? You'll need to hold it—"
He cut himself off when the Doctor wrapped his left hand around Rose's left wrist, encouraging her to grasp his wrist in return.
"I see you're familiar with hand-fasting."
The Doctor's hearts were racing, but he attempted nonchalance. "It's one of the oldest wedding ceremonies in the universe."
Rose's eyes widened, and he knew she heard what he hadn't said. He bit back a sigh and wished she didn't know him quite so well.
"Yes, I suppose it is." He held up the ribbon, and the Doctor watched as the magistrate bound their hands together. With each full circle of the ribbon around their wrists, the Doctor felt his ability to keep his distance from Rose, from this ceremony, dwindling. By the time the knot was tied, his hearts were racing so fast that he knew Rose must be able to feel it, with her hand right above his wrist.
"Your joined hands represent the lives you have lived until now. You have been separate, individual, needing only to think of your own concerns. By joining hands, you indicate a desire to also join your lives, to go forward from this day living and acting for each other. Do you consent?"
The Doctor looked at Rose. "I consent," he said solemnly, feeling the weight of the moment.
Rose looked back at him, and he knew she could see past any shields or walls that remained. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, his breath caught in his throat. She'd opened herself up to him fully, letting him truly see the love in her eyes for the first time.
"I consent," she said clearly, her vulnerable expression pleading him not to reject her heart this time.
The magistrate took their joined hands between his own. "Until now, you have walked alone, but from this day forward, you will walk together. According to the laws and rites of Rhaetia, I declare you to be married."
Their hands were unbound, and the magistrate rolled the ribbon up. "I assume you will want to add this to your collection, Doctor," he said.
The teasing comment broke the intimate bubble the Doctor and Rose had been in. He saw the speculative look on her face and flushed. She didn't seem surprised or confused by the comment, and he wondered if she'd known all along, or if the magistrate had told her.
He wanted to refuse the cloth to save face, but he couldn't. This ceremony, so similar to the one used in a Gallifreyan bonding, meant more to him than any of the others. It had felt real, and he wanted to remember it. He accepted the cloth and slipped it into his pocket. Something flared in Rose's eyes, and he thought it might be hope.
DWDWDWDWDW
Rose watched the Doctor tuck the ribbon into his pocket—the same pocket where he apparently kept all the tokens used in their weddings. She wanted to ask him why he'd done that, if maybe it meant he saw their relationship as more than just a marriage of convenience, but with the magistrate looking on, she couldn't.
"I'm afraid I need to return Rose to her cell," the magistrate said, sounding almost apologetic.
The Doctor's eyes flicked over to him, then back to Rose. Taking her hand, he pulled her close and she wrapped her arms around his waist.
"This time tomorrow, we'll be back home on the TARDIS," he promised, and the whisper of his breath over her ear made her shiver. "I promise, Rose."
She nodded against his chest, then she thought she felt the soft brush of his lips against her temple before he let her go.
The magistrate cleared his throat awkwardly. Rose turned away from the Doctor back to her jailer. "I'm ready," she told him, cringing at the bald-faced lie.
Her prison mate was lounging on her bed when Rose returned to her cell, but she stood up when her door opened. "So, what was that all about?" she asked curiously.
Rose looked at the woman and suddenly realised she didn't even know her name. "What's your name?" she asked.
"Karris," The woman replied. "And yours?"
"Rose. Rose Tyler."
She sat down on her bed, and Karris mirrored her position. "It looks like I won't have to fight tomorrow after all," she said.
Karris smiled brightly. "Your husband has agreed to stand for you?"
Rose nodded. "Yeah, he has."
"The magistrate must have needed to perform the hand-fasting," her neighbour said. "You are from off-world, so you would not have been married according to our customs and laws."
A small giggle escaped Rose. "Married according to the customs of almost a dozen other planets though," she revealed.
Rose looked over at Karris and for the first time noticed the green sash she wore. "Why does everyone here wear a sash like that?"
The woman fingered the silky cloth. "It is a sign of what caste we belong to," she said. "Each caste wears a different colour."
"Back when I was talkin' to Lord Skern, he looked at me and said I wasn't wearing one. Is that how he knew I was an off-worlder?"
Karris nodded. "Off-worlders are outside our caste system. Usually that is not a problem; we rarely have any legal problems with visitors to our world. But in a case such as yours, it meant you had absolutely no legal standing—especially not against a stedhul."
"I'm guessing the stedhul are the top group, yeah?"
"Yes."
Rose pursed her lips. Ever since she'd learned about the caste system and realised how some abused it, she'd wanted to do something to overturn it. But if the system was as engrained here as it seemed to be, then no one important would be likely to listen to an off-worlder.
She looked sideways at Karris. But maybe she could plant the idea in the mind of someone who could make a difference. "I'm not used to being someplace with such a rigid caste system," she said casually.
"How are people on your world ranked?"
For the next hour, Rose told her new friend about her home, and about some of the worlds she'd visited with the Doctor where the society was truly equal. She was careful not to push, but only to present information. The conversation only ended when the guard called for lights out.
DWDWDWDWDW
The Doctor didn't sleep that night. He'd slept four hours the night before, but even if he'd been exhausted, he wouldn't have been able to push aside the twin fears that he might lose Rose, and that she might finally have a true understanding of his feelings for her.
The first fear was easier to deal with than the second—after all, he'd successfully fought the Sycorax leader for planet Earth. It was only the awareness that the odds were much higher this time that made him nervous.
But the second… He knew his supposed disinterest in a relationship was the only thing that held Rose back, and people who were not interested in a relationship did not carry around a pocketful of romantic souvenirs.
The Doctor reached into his pocket and pulled the ribbon out. It unfurled in his hands, and he let the satiny length slip between his fingers. When he'd clasped her hand to hers, his ability to pretend the wedding was a lark like all the others had evaporated.
The words of the Rhaetian ceremony had been so similar to the Gallifreyan ceremony, minus the references to time that would seem odd to other races. He'd meant the vows he'd given Rose, and she'd realised it.
He dropped onto the bed and put his head in his hands, the ribbon fluttering to the floor. His last self had put up barriers against his feelings for Rose, barriers he'd had to shore up more than once since his regeneration. Really, how did you expect me to pretend I'm not in love with her when you took the Vortex out of her with a kiss? he asked his last incarnation sarcastically.
Those walls had all come crashing down when he'd seen the love and vulnerability in her eyes as she gave her vows that evening. She'd let him see how much she wanted to be with him, and in so doing, she'd given him the power to break her heart.
The Doctor picked the ribbon up off the floor and put it back in his pocket. If the choice lay between his own hearts breaking when Rose died, and hers breaking tomorrow, he would gladly spare her the pain and take it on himself.
DWDWDWDWDW
After a restless night of sleep, Rose was awakened shortly after sunrise with a plate of food and orders to be ready to go the tournament field in one hour. She ate the breakfast and washed her face in the tepid water she was provided, then started pacing the cell again.
It was almost a blessing when a uniformed guard appeared and unlocked her cell. As he led her down narrow, Rhaetian streets, he explained what would happen.
"The combatants will arrive at the field first. They will retire to tents on opposite sides of the field where they will be given a choice of weapons to use. We will arrive five minutes before the contest is to begin and go to the centre of the field, where the magistrate awaits."
He looked over at her, and Rose nodded to show she was following.
"Precisely at 9:00, the herald will call for the combatants to come forward. The magistrate will recite the charges against you and explain that your husband has volunteered to stand in your place."
"Does Lord Skern know about that?" Rose asked.
The guard shook his head. "That change does not affect the proceedings, so he will discover it on the field."
Rose smirked; she looked forward to the look on his face when he realised he wouldn't be fighting a woman, but a man who looked as capable as the Doctor. "Thank you. Is there more I need to know?"
The guard seemed to consider her question, then shook his head. "After everything is explained before the magistrate, you will be taken to a separate box from which to watch the fight. That is all, I believe."
A question suddenly occurred to Rose. "What happens if the Doctor loses?"
"You will be remanded into custody and your husband permanently banished from Rhaetia."
A shiver ran down Rose's spine. "Oh," she murmured. She didn't actually think that would happen, but the answer was still… not what she'd hoped.
They walked the rest of the way to the field in silence. When they arrived, a crowd had already gathered. The idea that people had come to be entertained by watching someone literally fight for her life sickened Rose, but she put a brave face on and allowed herself to be led to the magistrate's box.
"Good morning, Rose. I trust you slept well?"
"As well as can be expected," she answered evenly, and he tilted his head in acknowledgement.
"The Doctor and Lord Skern arrived fifteen minutes ago. As the keeper of the clock, the herald will be the one to announce the opening of the proceedings."
As if on cue, a young man walked to the middle of the field. He met the magistrate's eye, and the man stepped out of his box. "Follow me, Rose," he said, and they walked over to the herald.
Once they were in position, the herald called for Lord Skern to come forward. The blond, burly Rhaetian exited the tent on the right side of the field and strode toward them with a sword in hand. When he stood directly in front of them, the magistrate addressed him.
"Lord Skern, would you please inform the people of Rhaetia of your accusation against the off-worlder, Rose Tyler?"
Lord Skern turned to face the crowd. "Yesterday afternoon, this off-worlder interfered with the running of my household. She stepped between myself and my servant and refused to move when I demanded she do so."
The magistrate nodded. "Thank you, Lord Skern. As a stedhul, you have the right to choose the trial of the accused. Do you still wish to proceed with trial by combat?"
"I do."
"Rose Tyler, you have the right to ask a family member to stand in your place. Do you have anyone who will go through this trial for you?"
Rose looked Lord Skern in the eye. "My husband, the Doctor," she said, smiling when the smirk on Skern's face disappeared.
The magistrate looked at the herald, who called out for the Doctor to come forward. Rose kept her eyes trained on the tent she knew the Doctor was in, breathing out a sigh when she saw him.
He was still wearing his pinstriped trousers, but in deference to the need for mobility, he'd shed the jacket and rolled up his sleeves. There was a sword in his right hand, and Rose's stomach flipped at the reminder of why they were here.
"Doctor, your wife, Rose Tyler, has petitioned you to stand this trial on her behalf. Will you accept?"
The Doctor looked into Rose's eyes. "I will."
Lord Skern grunted, and the Doctor looked over at him. Rose shivered at the sight of the Oncoming Storm barely banked in his eyes, and she knew the other man's obvious displeasure to not be fighting her angered him.
After a moment, he looked back at Rose. "Rose Tyler, as your husband I am honoured to be called upon to stand in your place this day. Will you honour me with some token of your affection?"
The sincerity in his voice warmed Rose, and she almost missed what he was asking for. Wide eyed, she looked at the magistrate, who whispered, "A kiss."
Rose drew a deep breath. "I will." She held the Doctor's gaze as she stepped toward him, looking for anything in his eyes that indicated this made him uncomfortable.
Instead, the warmth she'd noticed a moment before shone brighter. Her heart thumping in her chest, Rose reached up and placed her hand on the back of his neck, urging him to lower his mouth to hers.
The Doctor's free hand rested on her waist, helping her balance as she stood on her toes. They both paused with only a centimetre between them, and the feeling of his breath on her parted lips felt more intimate than anything Rose had ever done.
Finally, she lifted herself that final bit. The Doctor's lips were smooth, and cooler than a human's would be. His other hand landed on her hip, pulling her closer, and Rose's fingers sank into his hair.
She ran her tongue over his bottom lip, but when he started to open his mouth, she remembered where they were. Breaking the kiss with a quiet pop, she took a step back.
It was a chaste kiss, but the implications for their relationship shook Rose. She didn't know about the Doctor, but she wouldn't be able to pretend they were just friends anymore, not after today.
The magistrate's voice jarred her out of her thoughts. "Bailiff, you will please take Rose Tyler to the prisoner's viewing box and ensure she remains in custody until the outcome of the trial is certain."
The uniformed guard from earlier came forward. "You forgot to mention the kiss," she muttered to him as he led her away.
From her seat in the prisoner's box, Rose had an unobstructed view of the field. The Doctor and Lord Skern were facing each other now, and the magistrate spoke to them both.
"Lord Skern, Doctor, you have both been informed of the rules, but I will repeat them as a reminder and for the sake of our audience." Rose sat up straight. "You will fight until there is a clear victor. Victory is won when you hold your opponent's sword in your hand. This is not a fight to the death, though as you are both aware, you will be fighting with lethal weapons, so it is not unheard of nor against the rules. Do you consent to these guidelines?"
"I do," the Doctor and Lord Skern chorused.
Rose's heart was in her throat from the first clash of steel on steel. She didn't doubt the Doctor's ability; he'd proven himself months ago. But somehow, even though a planet didn't hang in the balance, this fight felt more significant.
Because it's personal, Rose realised as she squinted against a flash of sunlight reflecting off a blade. The Doctor was fighting for her, as her husband.
Eager for a distraction from the fight in front of her, she let herself think about their relationship. The bracelets, pins, belts—he'd kept them all. Not only that, he'd kept them on his person, always. Rose gnawed on her lip. She'd laughed off their string of weddings because she assumed the Doctor didn't want to be married to her, even if he loved her. But if that was the case, why did he purposely keep all those reminders of their weddings?
The crowd hissed, and Rose looked up to see the two men on the other side of the field with their blades locked together. She smiled; she remembered this move. The Doctor allowed Lord Skern to put all his weight against his sword, then, in a stunning show of agility, he spun in the opposite direction, nearly sending Lord Skern tumbling the ground. The stands erupted into cheering, and Rose raised her voice about the others, cheering him on.
DWDWDWDWDW
The Doctor heard Rose's loud cheer, just like he always heard every giggle, and sigh, and sob. He manoeuvred the fight back to the front of the field and flashed her a grin.
Rose smiled at him, and he could see the hint of tongue peeking out. "Looking good, Doctor," she called out.
"Oh, so I'm still the Doctor then?" he asked, teasingly repeating the exchange that had finally told him she accepted the new him.
She laughed. "No arguments from me!"
"Enough!" Lord Skern bellowed, advancing hard and moving them away from the stands. "Stop flirting with that kasden and pay attention to our fight."
The Doctor's eyes narrowed; the TARDIS hadn't translated the slur, but he spoke Rhaetian and knew exactly what Skern had just called Rose.
Cruel amusement gleamed in Skern's eyes. "Tell me, Doctor, are you really so willing to die, rather than let her receive the punishment she deserves? I would have enjoyed seeing her die, if I had been allowed to fight her."
The Doctor's control snapped. He hadn't liked Skern from the moment he heard Rose had been arrested for her compassion. The man's frustration over not being having the unequal fight he'd clearly been expecting had lowered his opinion him even further.
Anger drove the Doctor's forward in a flurry of attacks, but it also made him reckless. Stern easily met each strike and returned with one of his own.
All it took was one mistake, one time he incorrectly anticipated Skern's next move, and the Doctor's sword flew out of his hand, landing in the grass some six feet away. Instead of going for the sword, Skern deliberately closed the distance between himself and the Doctor.
"Doctor!" Rose yelled, and her voice pulled him out of his dazed state. Skern raised his sword, and the Doctor rolled out of his way, picked up his sword, and leapt to his feet.
"Oh, I'm harder to kill than that," he told Skern. He took advantage of his opponent's confusion and pressed hard against him, forcing him backwards as he blocked each blow. "In fact, I'm harder to kill than you could possibly imagine."
Skern stumbled over an uneven piece of ground, and the Doctor seized his moment. He caught Skern's sword by the guard, flipped it up in the air, and caught it by the grip as it came back down.
The crowd roared when he turned toward them and held both swords over his head. The magistrate left his box to officially end the trial, and the Doctor took advantage of the few moments he had to talk to Skern.
"The rules of the trial would have allowed me to kill you," the Doctor said coldly. "That's not the way I do things, though. And even if I'd been tempted, I still would have stopped because I know Rose—the woman you see as a kasden—wouldn't want me to."
The Doctor fidgeted through the rest of the proceedings. The pompous ceremony of Rhaetian culture was wearing thin, especially when all he wanted to do was celebrate his victory with Rose.
Finally, the bailiff released her. A broad grin stretched across her face as she ran to meet him, and the Doctor could feel a matching smile on his own face.
Rose buried her face in the crook of his neck, and he could feel her tears getting his shirt damp. He pressed a kiss to her temple and pulled her as close as he could.
"I thought…" Her fists clenched in his shirt. "I thought you were…"
The Doctor pulled back and linked his hand with hers. "Nah," he said. "I was always going to win."
The magistrate approached them and held out a hand to the Doctor, who shook it. "Congratulations," he said, looking at them both. "I would like to invite you to the banquet. It's a traditional part of any trial by combat."
The Doctor saw tents going up on the green and smelled cooking meat, but he had no desire to stay here any longer. A quick glance at Rose told him she felt the same way, so he shook his head.
"Thank you for the offer, but I'm sure you understand our unwillingness to stay. If it's all the same to you, we'd rather go home."
The magistrate nodded. "Of course. Well, you are free to go."
The walk back to the TARDIS was strikingly different from their walk into the city the day before. Now that the trial was behind them, doubts crept into Rose's mind.
He's pretended he doesn't feel anything for me for two years. Why would one more wedding ceremony change that?
She glanced sideways at the Time Lord who still held her hand. His jaw was set and his eyes were fixed straight ahead.
Why would this ceremony have changed him, when none of the others didn't? He looks like he's already planning out how to tell me that this was all just another adventure and didn't actually mean anything.
When they reached the TARDIS, the Doctor let go of Rose's hand and opened the door. Her insides turned over when he opened his mouth—she wasn't ready for him to dismiss this, not yet. She needed a few more minutes when she could fool herself into believing he wanted to be with her.
"I don't know about you," she said quickly before he could get a word out, "but I really need a shower." She looked down at the outfit she'd picked out the day before. "And fresh clothes. It wasn't a bad cell, as far as prisons go, but sleeping in your clothes just leaves you feeling a little… manky, doesn't it?"
The Doctor tilted his head, and Rose's heart raced. Finally, he rubbed at the back of his neck and nodded in agreement. "Right, of course you want to get clean. I'll make tea while you take a shower. Meet me in the library when you're done?"
She wanted to refuse, but she knew she couldn't put it off forever. "Yeah, 'course."